The affairs of madness
by In-My-Secret-life
Summary: 1shot, new moon style scenario; Edward leaves Bella, shattering her soul in his wake. She finds solace in the kind love of his brother Jacob; antithesis of Edward in every way but one: his irrevocable love for Bella. But after 10 years can that be enough?


OOC, AH

_Okay so this was originally my English coursework- changed the names to twilight characters so it could fit into a book category. So basically the characters have nothing to do with the people Stephenie Meyer created except their names._

_Edward and Jacob are brothers. Edward and Bella were together for two years before he ended their relationship in favour of college. Bella is utterly lost and broken without Edward, finding solace only in the kind love of his brother Jacob (bit of a New Moon scenario I guess.) Bella and Jacob are married, but not happy. Their life is a mechanical one with no tangible future, just a dark circle of mandatory, inanimate routines. Bella has decided what she has to do; the restraints of consequences have yielded under the strain of emptiness. She needs to get out. _

The affairs of Madness. 

**Sleep is violent. It is a brutal, pornographic theatre of torture; you and her, together. And I am there of course- a helpless fly on the wall screaming in agony while you euthanize her. I know she endures a similar surge of acid burning through her dreams each night; the tears on the pillow you wring from her each morning give it away. I am not jealous of the notion, the dream does not unhinged me; the intense agony resides in the knowledge that she is having the same nightmare, and that her terror is in waking to the reality of her existence. We never speak of sleep of course, that would risk penetrating the one compulsory taboo of our wretched marriage. It seems almost desolately ironic that you should be the ghostly man outside the door waiting to seduce my woman. You- who wanted her for a while… and I expect will want her again some time- but who I can count on for one thing; you will never try to take her from me. You wanted only to borrow her- she was your hotel; your bed, your nurse and your whore while you rested. But Bella was never meant to be something disposable. Love is not a verb to her. Although she is already eternally yours, your charity could not stretch to her. I think you were tightest with those you loved. They were such a risk to you; you always swore you would evade madness- even in the form of something as justified as love. But I don't think you've really succeeded; when they say that solitude can do bad things to you they're not wrong… I should know. **

**I roll over and kiss her shoulder; she knows I won't embarrass her by making her reveal her recovering face. I get up and turn the shower on, and after a while I hear her rise. The bed is strictly physical. We never talk in bed… there are too many expectations nailed to those circumstances… those painful words have been said in such a place by too many simpler lovers to make talking safe for us. 'I love you' won't work for us in the easy ways that other couples have mastered it. It's too philosophical, too provoking… for us. She cleans her teeth casually while I shower, wiping the sleep out of her pink eyes. I watch her dress… climbing distantly into her black uniform. I watch her walk out the door from my despondent post on the third stair- and then I watch her turn and run to me. She presses herself into my body sincerely, her little fingers digging into my back as she clings to me. Then she leaves for the café, and another day of existence. If you were here, I doubt you'd assume responsibility for what she's become… and I cannot blame you either. I am as faulted as you; I know that as a fundamental truth. And I expect she is too… but I can never be sure of anything with concerns to Bella; certainly nothing logical.**

_I dreamed it again last night; I went back to that terrible, beautiful place. _

_I suppose there were a thousand tiny beauties there, all products of some communal God; but they were like stars against the sun. If I were to physically go back there again it would be night for me. And maybe those same neglected stars would beckon forgivingly to me, but I wouldn't be able to look…they would bear a familiar brightness to something that I could never let my eyes return to. But you're always there when I go, and the sky is always a blue veil. Sometimes it begins to reveal itself, and I cling desperately to you… knowing somewhere in my reluctant mind what is coming… and then I wake beside Jacob. There is a woman with my name and face who loves Jacob. And sometimes one of my nomadic fragments visits that host- but you are gone… and so I am too. _

_I'm so thankful you never told me the name of that lonely lake; such a place would be a dangerous thing to douse with your heroin, that beautiful drug you snatched from me so long ago. Well I didn't beat it. I'm ten years clean, but ten years of squeaky, vicious polishing with a withdrawal-doused cloth turns you into something that doesn't exactly correspond with 'beating' anything. I know I would have gone there… I would have reasoned and prayed and tried to blot it out. But something that visited me so often would not have failed to demand reciprocation. I always yielded in the end… even to the gas stations. And gmost of them were probably strangers to your memory anyway; I've never had any sense of direction. Anyway I suppose I'll see you today. Or I'll say goodbye forever. I expect the latter is more likely- You would have said so. Jacob would probably be more compassionate if I asked him… I've never been much of a theologian myself. So that takes me to the bleak matter at hand I suppose… rope or gun? Forgive me; I want to feel cool enough to be blasé about such matters while I can…one last time. And yes, I know what you would think of that- and what you would think of the fact that I still feel guilty at the idea of your disapproval. I drive past the café…smiling stupidly as I realise the pointlessness of ducking; I hear job security is a major cause for concern amongst dead folk. I know where the shop is, it's pulled my attention enough times. I guess a gun would be preferable, quick- and I hope less of a traumatising site to discover. Not that I'm under any circumstances going to let Jacob be the one to find me…I'll leave him a marginally less barbaric note. I'll make sure it's while he's in New York… that's why it's tonight. _

_Is it disgusting what I've done with him? To him? Perhaps you would think so- or perhaps you would just stamp the whole situation as twisted … and maybe it is. But if you blame me… then you really had no comprehension of just how much I loved you. And if you call that a desperate excuse then you never understood in the slightest. You left, Edward- You just left. I suppose the memory isn't as blood-tinted for you; I've accepted now that the whole relationship was an unrequited mess, but sadly this realisation did not make it any less ridiculous to consider trying to recover. I'd never met such a good liar as you- You know how useless I was. Perhaps it was vain- but I'd never considered for a moment that it wasn't real. I'd adapted easily to my romanticised delusion that we were the ultimate lovers; Romeo and Juliet had never touched anything as deep as what we had. I was so careless- So sadistically unguarded, I rashly overthrew the life I had, and when I had to crawl back to it- it wasn't enough any more. I was shattered; broken into a million timid shards that called for nothing but any small fragment of you. That's when I saw Jacob. I mean really saw him. I don't know what I thought- but I swear to you it wasn't some warped bid to replace you with the next best thing. I could feel something of you around him though, I can't deny that's what pulled me to him… and he was kind. He reminded me that other kinds of love existed, however strange and hazy they seemed after you, but Jacob was my friend in every sense of the word. It was probably wicked to accept him, but your brutal life lessons had already robbed me of the option of leaving someone that loves you. And I needed him so much._

**I always thought Bella was beautiful. I won't say I loved her from the moment you brought her home, but wherever the minutes that I was not intoxicated went I do not know. You always got everything didn't you? And ten years of marriage to that same 'everything' I speak of has not convinced me otherwise. I wanted her like I have wanted nothing in my life; I became such a low creature for her. And even now I cannot bring myself to regret it. It ground like a fired iron rod at my chest every time I saw the look she gave you. And it was the same look that I recognised from my own eyes in the mocking glint of darkened windows or mirrors that won the background of her location every so often. She was everything- not like a soul mate, but everything any guy would ever want! And yes, I appreciate entirely how many thousand times more pathetic this makes me for not being able to isolate myself from her. But she slipped into everything, as if she had given you an aerosol of herself that you sprayed the house with each and every day. Her scent lived on your clothes, her quotes in your conversation and her body in your poignant recounts of those sleepless nights when I knew you were with her. And then the letter came.**

Office of admissions and financial aid

Mr Edward Cullen

18 Killearn ctr. Blvd

Tallahassee, FL

32309

Dear Mr. Cullen,

I am delighted to inform you that the committee of Admissions and financial aid has voted to offer you a place in the Harvard class of 1989. Please accept my personal congratulations at this outstanding achievement.

This year nearly three thousand students applied for admission to the entering class. Presented with many more talented and highly qualified candidates than we have places available for, the committee took great care to look carefully at individuals it felt portrayed great moral fibre and strength of character as well as exceptional academic and extracurricular strengths. The committee is convinced that you will make significant and important contributions during your college years and further in later life.

If you would like to assume your place from September, further information will be sent to you over the summer. If you wish to defer entrance for a year as many students do to much reward from their many and varied experiences, then please do inform us of your alternative plans.

I very much hope you will decide to join us at Harvard. Please inform us of your decision before May 1. Whatever your decision may be, you have my best wishes for every future success.

Sincerely,

William R. Fitzsimmons

Dean of Admissions and Financial Aid

_You'd showed me your applications. They were all local. If I'd allowed myself to think properly about it, then that word alone would have been enough to make me realise what a sacrifice you were making. I'd spent endless, blissful hours listening to your plans for our adventurous future. Ours. But adventure was __**your **__desire; I should have realised that it was a separate dream from any hope you had invested in our relationship. It owned you long before I came and laid my claim on you, and it could not learn to share. I was always a country girl with mediocre aspirations that dissolved the instant you obstructed my gaze at them. But you had big dreams, dreams that you swore you would not let be crushed by environment. And I was exactly that climate change you were so wary of. So you got into Harvard, I don't think it surprised you really... however agonizingly torn you wanted me to think you were. Perhaps you were just trying to be kind for once? _

_So autumn came in a merciless gust, sweeping you away with the leafy remains of summer, leaving the stability of my world shattered in its wake. You said you could not let a country town imprison you; if you didn't __**live**__ a life you couldn't exist through one either. Had I thought that imprisonment could keep you with me, alive, I would have chained you with all the rope and bars I could acquire, but I knew your heart needed to go, and I wanted nothing with your shell. A kiss on the forehead was my brutal farewell... And it hurt. I thought the bloody stitches would never fall away from the aching corners of my mouth as the bus pulled you away from me, but then Jacob's arm found my shoulders. I never had to pretend with Jacob; he just understood- whether I spoke or not. I'd gotten to know him well over that derailing couple of years, but it was after you'd gone that I really looked at him. I've no doubt that he bought me that extra decade of air in my lungs, he was there for me- absolutely- unconditionally. I didn't love him in the right way though; our marriage was a product of my pathetic hours spent convincing myself that his role as my primary necessity was sufficient grounds on which to accept him. And I adapted to it through whatever resources reached out to me; I couldn't bring myself to read the health warnings. I know I went a little mad; I could not have learned to love Jacob if I hadn't made certain separations, regardless of what the dividing blade did to my head in the process. I knew it was vital that the Bella who had loved his brother with such a fervent passion was killed, or at least put to sleep in a very deep dark place. I should probably have chosen to let myself deteriorate and given him a chance- but I was selfish, and opted for the easy cruelty of accepting life support, and sucking what little sustenance he had into my expanding vacuum of misery._

**Of course I'm a terrible person. What I did was utterly wrong- I knew she still loved you- far more than she could ever convince herself that she loved me… and I knew that we did each other far more harm than good. But I'd become so weak. I didn't want to fight her anymore, fight the pitiful battle against needing her. I was too tired of trying to be a sensible, decent person- too tired to keep up the façade of rating my self respect somehow above the unsurpassable roof that she lay upon. The longing that I had spent so long trying to suppress was gaining a hold of me… and as it threatened to consume me I broke like a feeble child under its torture; I begged her to take it from me. Only Bella could relieve me of that terrible longing- it would relinquish it's thrown only for her replacement. I was cruel; she was so vulnerable and I knew it… yet I threw myself at her helpless feet and pleaded with her try to love me, or to do whatever she could to make me believe it for a while. **

_I'm not nervous- I'm not really excited either; I thought that such a plot might reward me with some memory of the thrills of adrenaline- I guess nothing gets past Prozac. That's good I suppose, emotion can be a hindrance at the best of times, especially where fear is concerned. Things should run smoothly without the added danger of emotion. I wander up to the guy at the counter, the gel or grease glazing of his dyed, jet-black hair producing a faint reflection as it claims my attention. He chews ardently as he watches the haphazardly positioned TV on the wall. I pause before the counter, looking blankly at the bleak appliances decorating the unpainted plaster. I suppose they appear relatively innocent to most customers the shop receives- merely the common inhabitants of a hardware shop- saws, screwdrivers, guns…_

"_Yes?" A Texas accent drawls. He turns to eye me irritably, spitting his gum behind the counter into what I hope is a trash can. _

"_I- I need a gun" I announce quietly, inwardly grimacing at the ridiculously dramatised tone of my request. He narrows his eyes at me, slowly lowering them to survey my form. _

"_Why are you wanting a gun for?" He asks, his expression clearly more animated, although not betraying whether the interest stems from amusement or suspicion. _

"_Oh. Well…" why did I not think of this?_

"_Yes?" He pries, his slug like eyebrows narrowing at my hesitance._

"_It's for my father." I say slowly, careful to keep my voice innocently even._

"_Excuse me?" He demands in a tone that suggests suspicion of my sincerity, his upper lip ascending as if caught by a fishhook from one corner._

"_Oh…no, I mean- it's not for him in any kind of sinister way, he collects them you see. I wanted to get him a new one for his birthday." I explain, locating a friendly smile._

_He sighs, apparently bored of me._

"_And what kind of gun were you looking to find?"_

"_What kind do you have? I'd recognise the ones already in the collection, he didn't want anything specific." I finish too quickly._

_He rolls his eyes at me, gesturing briefly to a glass windowed cabinet stretching along the left-hand side of the shop. I look blankly at them and then at him._

_He clicks his tongue at me, his eyebrows meeting in disbelief at my ignorance._

"_You do at least have a licence, Yes?" He recites slowly._

_My heart sinks._

"_Oh… I didn't realise…" I mutter apologetically._

"_We're in Florida. You can't buy no gun in Florida if you ain't got no licence." He grins, oddly victorious at the failed sale._

_I nod helplessly and turn to face my other options. Without thinking too much about the scenario to come, I sling a coil of rope around my arm and make for the counter, determined not to invite further inquisition. _

**John announced the trip as if it was something to be fought for, a truly desirable excursion to the city- Janet thought so too, and Kyle and Roy and Martha and Alana. But for me, New York is the world's answer to hell. At any rate, it is the home of my greatest daemon. Bella does not know that you are living there, I'm sure my concealment of your continued contact would upset her if she were to discover it, but I know she would agree deep down that my course of conduct was the safest. Logic tells me New York is a big city, and I am unlikely to run into you, but the superstitious part of me whispers that fate is not that merciful. I hate leaving her too… I know she doesn't miss me like I miss her… but it feels shamefully like leaving a child unsupervised. Of course it's wrong to view my wife in this light, but I can't help it; with someone so vulnerable it seems almost necessary. Anyway, business calls me away… just as it called you so many years ago. It pains me to think the lack of effect my leaving will have on her compared to yours all those years ago. I don't want to go tonight… I truly don't. It feels wrong, and I can't figure out why; I know you would kick me for allowing myself to become torn by irrational fears with a basis no more concrete than a gut feeling. And you would be right of course.**

_I'm onto my seventh cup of coffee in the last hour. It would probably be more appropriate to petition to vodka at this waiting line hour. It's not really necessary; but I want to be sure that he is safely on the plane. It's perhaps marginally better for the fate of my immortal soul if I know he's a suitable thousand feet distance from my vicious widowing attack. Anyway, coffee is better for me. I'm too concerned about my giftedness at making mistakes to allow the influence of alcohol to aid my clumsiness. I just need this to run smoothly, it's high time I freed Jacob from my radiating destruction. The watching clock calls to my eyes gleefully, singing that the hour has come and I must begin the show. I glance one last time over the letter… probably some pathetic attempt to procrastinate. _

_Dear Jacob,_

_Look at this as nothing other than what it was; pure selfishness. By this, I mean to say that had I thought of you once in this situation I would have freed you of my wretched binds the moment you began to care about me. This gesture is long overdue and I hope that you can finally find the happy life you deserve after I have cleaned myself away. I must not neglect to thank you however, you did a very charitable thing in marrying me, and I'm sure I can hardly comprehend the personal sacrifice it was at. You gave me something to live for, and I know that the God will reward you for that. Please do not view this necessary act as making your kind sustenance of me in vain, You gave life, You saved me for a while when I thought I was beyond salvage. Please hate me, It has always plagued me with guilt that you could not; I deserve only repulsion and hatred from you, Jacob. I'm sorry I was so hopeless at loving you, and I'm sorry you saw the extent to which I could love someone else. Please believe that you were everything… I just forgot how to love the only way you deserve to be loved. Damn me if you like; asking your forgiveness now would be the ultimate addition of insult to injury. I hope you are forever free of me; you know that you deserve to be happy, and I could never offer you that. Please try._

_Forever holding you in my heart,_

_Bella. _

_It is not enough… it does not say how I wanted so desperately to let him be the one to "heal me" and to "teach me to fall in love again"… but try though I did, I could not convince myself fall into those welcoming clichés. _

_Contentedly anaesthetized with my evening Prozac and Ritalin, I slip easily through my noose, gripping the shower rail with both hands. The bathroom gleams harshly, it's heavy, white light scorching down like bleach on the further whiteness of the room. My bare feet step gingerly onto the cold bath edge, toes curling around it willing me to remain on the haven island. I'll miss you… If I get to heaven then I'll obviously see you soon- if heaven is all it's cracked up to be anyway, but that's not really going to happen is it? And you are not dead, so hell will not unite us either. Not yet. Goodbye._

_My feet slip from the edge is a swift, harsh movement, but the pain comes gradually; clearly a broken neck is too much to hope for at such an insufficient height. My toes lightly brush the cool of the white tiles as the ache of the friction around my neck intensifies. I don't feel as if I'm suffocating… but the room is swimming… this must be__strangling rather than choking.__The sink begins to spin… and I see you and Jacob…I want so much to focus on Jacob, the one who deserves my dying thoughts… but I can't drag my eyes from the memory of your face. And then- as the severe brightness begins to dim and the ache in my neck rises to my head in a thumping roar…something distant kicks me into a vague awareness. Like an urgent knocking… I try and pull my drooping head from the gentle realms of unconsciousness, willing myself to resist the caress of death. A block of shadow thrusts suddenly into the path of my dying squint- and a figure emerges from the darkness. I recoil from the dark hair, the lightly tanned face, the deep brown eyes, all suddenly so poignantly clear. Jacob. He rushes into the light… a look of horror on his tired face. Jacob? Why is he…Jacob? I try to form a legible expression- an apology, a plea not to be pulled back now… but… something is wrong. His face is different… it's not Jacob. No. No… too many times. Jacob is my husband. Jacob. Not You. Even in my dying moment I am trying to replace the partner of my life with one long dead to me. But… it really isn't Jacob. I know this face even better than Jacob's… you're expression has changed too. It is no longer the terrified mask of desperate horror- no panic- no shock… just mild curiosity and… amusement?_

"_Bella." You shake your head at me, smiling fondly as your hands move to my face. Stopping as an afterthought at my neck, you touch the ropes causing them to fall away under your holy fingers. _

"_Crazy girl" You mutter, not unkindly, winding your arms around my- oddly easily supported- frame. _

"_How- how are you… why are you here?" I breathe, unable to leave your eyes._

"_You… needed me." You reply blankly, as if missing the point in my question._

"_Let's go." You nod assertively, taking me by the wrist._

_I should stop this… should question how you knew what I was doing…should point out that I have been needing you constantly for the past decade so why is tonight different? I should remember my husband. But I threw my life away for you… so I suppose you have some sort of ownership over it. Whatever reason I concoct for the consolation of my guilt later- I know now in this instant that I do not have a choice. _

_I must have slept for hours…because as I look around now everything is bright. In fact- the scene is not dissimilar to that of the bleak bathroom from the distant land of last night. But I can sense that it is day; some of the room's light must be separate from the spillage of the vast, white rectangle dangling from the ceiling by two small chains. I twist onto my stomach beneath the unnervingly fluorescent temperament it maintains as it shimmers sickly onto my skin. I lie adamantly still for a while, trying not to let my mind wander past the comfort of this limbo. I don't want to have to cross over into the undeniably clear realms of knowledge yet, not until I have absolutely no choice. A hand brushes my shoulder suddenly; if only I could wish for it to be Jacob to half the extent that I'm praying to see you._

"_Awake?" You ask politely. _

"_Edward…" I start desperately, torn between the safety of ignorance and the need for understanding._

"_Where- where are we?" I ask tentatively._

_My eyes travel further around the room then; it's white- completely and utterly white, without a speck of dust or dirt to be seen. The bed is a wide double… but along either side run metal bars, supported at intervals by further pillars of the same shiny-shiny metal. The floor is clad in a beige lino, accidental grey swirls and inconspicuous, straight edged shapes littering it in a dull, swarming way. The far white wall pulls my attention as the yellowed shards of light garnishing it prompt my memory, calling my eyes to dot to dot from the wall to the source of the light. I linger briefly on the cracks in the blind through which the sunlight floods before turning boldly towards you._

"_It's a sort of- rehab I suppose. We live here at the moment." You explain thoughtfully._

"_Why are you here?" I ask, concerned._

"_I- I don't know. You needed me." You nod, as if uncertain but satisfied with the answer._

"_Me?" I frown, wondering just how long I've been asleep for._

"_Why am I here?" I demand._

"_You nearly died, Bella. Believe it or not, it isn't uncommon to end up here if you put a rope around your neck, hon." You raise an eyebrow at me._

"_Anyway… this place… don't let it drag you down; you don't have to let it stamp its mark on you. It's more of a waiting room really; don't pay too much attention to anything that's here." You say gently, yawning as you easily brush my cheek, draining the blood from it with the streak of your oblivious finger. _

_Your words upset me a little… but I don't want to think too much about why just now. I need to embrace this gift while I can; this time I won't be naïve enough to consider it permanent. _

"_The sun's all the way up now. Let's take a walk," you smile holding out a hand to me. I nod, stepping gingerly over the bars of the bed, shivering as your hands grip my bare arms firmly. The ease with which you handle me hurts; though my arms want nothing more than to grasp you to me forever… the action would cost me so much now. I let my hand fall tentatively into yours; I don't want to compare you to Jacob… I don't want to think about him…but the contrast is so poignant. Your hands are practically identical, the same swamping size… the same warm temperature… but it's so agonizingly different. You weave through my fingers with your own, pressing your palm assertively to mine without a care in the world; Jacob glances nervously at me several times when we walk together before, occasionally, reaching quickly out to grasp my four fingers lightly in his limp grip. I hate how self-conscious I have made him… how painfully aware of his actions he feels he must be. _

_We push open the final set of white doors into butterscotch sunshine; it pours down luxuriously on the acidly ideal lawn, not unkempt enough to accept a single wild strand of grass's reaction to the breeze. It is the thick salt flooding the air that gives its force the impression of sufficient impact to influence the movement of anything; it is in fact hardly a breeze at all. I don't remember the building at all really… I can see the room vaguely, but I observed nothing as you led me through the corridors. I feel the ground beneath my shoes change, become less firm- I gaze around to see a vast beach. It's totally isolated; our only company seems to be the jaded crash of the eternal waves and a couple of jagged memories. I feel your hand around my chin once more, my eyes lock into yours… I try to turn away._

"_God I've missed you, Bella." You whisper, scrutinising my immobilized expression._

_You lean towards me, your lips parting… like the very mouth of hell. What have I got to lose? Wasn't I going there anyway? I may as well have a short taste of heaven before the flames and pitchforks find me. No… Jacob. I don't deserve such a pit stop… not after my crimes against him- and I do not need to add to that sentence. Besides… I'm not sure if I could do this now. If my ten years of illness taught my body anything, then surely it knows to produce its most effective reflex against the invader that caused it such devastation in the first place. _

"_No…" I breathe as I pull my head away, suppressing a moan at the effort. _

_You frown at me, puzzled, sweeping a strand of hair from my eye as you tilt my chin to look at you._

"_Bella?" _

_Wow. Did you actually just master "rejected"? "Hurt"? I smile in mild amusement for a second before dragging my mind to the miserable matter at hand._

"_Edward… I can't." I whisper._

_You open your mouth, frowning, as if to say something… but appear to change your mind and shut it abruptly, your expression regaining composure as you nod dismissively. _

"_Come on… let's just walk…there's the most beautiful little inlet in the rocks further along. We'll catch it when the tide's in if we're quick" You say enthusiastically, winking at me._

_We run along the beach, shoes grasped nonchalantly in our free hands until we come to the place. It is beautiful- or perhaps it's just that I know you think so. Anyway, the rocks climb the cliff like feral warriors fighting the rage of the ocean that their fellow brothers have yielded to. They lie fallen and mauled in the form of a gulf, scooped as butter to such perfect smoothness that the gentle flood of gentle water that strokes it seems jagged and harsh in comparison. We stand on a flat rock, looking into the ridiculously clear water- I feel a hand on my back and suddenly the water is all around me. There's no shock though, no sudden breathlessness…I don't even feel particularly wet… I'm just- in the water. I frown up at you… mildly concerned about your motive, but only able to stretch my sense a certain distance. I smile…receiving a familiar wink in return as you pull your shirt off and follow me. I feel your hands slip around me- taking full advantage of the water's subtle veil – I claw at them with my own fingers… trying pitifully to tear them from my waist. You see my struggle… and move your mouth to my cheek, planting a polite kiss there; to an onlooker the gesture would probably not be notable, perhaps not even evidently a kiss… but you know what it will do to me. I freeze- a puppet on your wicked string- my hands falling limp, slowly sinking in the water, and let out a low moan. It is not a result of pleasure or lust- not annoyance- just a pleading cry of distress. I force all my concentration onto just what these memories will do to me when you are gone, and wriggle away from you._

"_Bella!" You cry, exasperated._

"_I don't understand? Don't you like me any more?" You ask, your light amusement at the notion quivering on your top lip threatening to betray you. _

"_Edward, I can't! I just can't again. I'm married… to your brother." I plead mournfully._

"_Bella," you raise an eyebrow at me, knowing that any union with Jacob must inevitably crumble the moment you returned. After all, had I not killed the Bella that loved you upon my marriage to Jacob? Well she's back; and I know that were she still locked safely away… her ghost would be enough to infatuate the woman who loved Jacob with you at once._

"_Fine… I can't be that way with you anymore… I don't know how long you're going to be around this time… and I'm not so good at dealing with the memories of when you are. So can we please try to keep them as mild as possible? Yes. I'm being selfish again… sorry." I sulk, angry at having my confession drawn so easily from me._

"_I see." You murmur thoughtfully._

"_Yes, that's probably sensible… for both of us. I don't know how long we have either."_

_I ignore you, refusing to deliver the satisfaction of my curiosity at your mysteriousness… I'm getting sick of it. _

_We climb out of the water and you pull your shirt back on. We sit for a while, just watching the waves; it's tense. I keep one eye on you… utterly ignorant of the nature of your thoughts… and I see you watch me too. I don't like it… I don't know what to say; it just feels… wrong? Surely this phenomenon is what's so "wrong"… you've always been the one distinct "right" in my life… how can any scenario involving you be anything other than perfect? Oh God, do not take this from me… do not take my one hope at life…my one sustenance in the knowledge of this man's breathing! I let my mind dance back to those painful memories that I'd so carefully locked away all those years ago. Snapshots of our relationship strike my mind, their crimson laced edging suddenly darkening to blood. The lacing is passion; always… everything was romantic, surreal… passionate. This is Jacob; this is not you. I never learned to sit beside you… there was never any call to- never any reason for which I would not have opted to face you. Jacob was the one who had to bare my load… the one called upon so often to be leaned on…I frequently required the shoulder that in your case never brushed with my cheek in the same way. _

"_Edward… Edward, what's wrong with us?" I whisper._

_You turn and flatten your palm against my cheek, smiling expectantly. _

"_What do you want Bella?" you whisper, your lips parting my hair gently._

"_I- I don't know… I want us! I want to know that I didn't imagine the thing that has claimed my entire life!" I gush feverishly, panic raging in my pitch._

_Your corrosive hand strokes the cheek it still employs._

"_Hush," you urge soothingly, "tell me what you want," you whisper._

"_Anything Bella. I'll be whoever you need me to be. For you, I will be poet; I will exhaust my weapons to dust until I have plucked out my whole heart for your entertainment. For you, I will be a victim; I will fall to the mercy of as many wars as is required to collect sufficient blood to transfuse you back to life." You sing seductively into my ear._

"_Edward." I pull a face at you, giggling childishly at the stupid ways through which you still manage to make me blush. It's a bit better… you've managed to take us back there… romanticising was always your talent. _

_I don't want to fall back into that awkwardness… that … wrongness. Smothering my mind with all the veils I can muster, I turn to you, bracing myself for the unbearable poignancy I'm about to brand, white-hot onto my memory. I swallow… lock into your eyes with a desolate determination and kiss you. You respond naturally, so easily… and at last I really believe that you're here. I shut down guilt, banish all inhibitions and crush the flicker of sense guttering at the edge of my head. I just listen to the waves, our lips breaking over each others in time with the wild crashes. We fall through the act… the clouds and the grass and the sea alternately embellishing the inevitable surrealism that grasps us in the obstinate fist of the moment. _

_-And then it's done. _

_As the reddening sky pours its warning down on me, I lie, distantly lost in its fiery climbs before finally sighing and swiping away the fragile veil of my mind. For that instant, that brief exchange of the flesh, I'd truly believed in salvation. I'd believed in the inescapable truth of love, of passion. I'd seen it etched intricately in scripture at the dawn on time by the hand of destiny or God; surely nothing could be so inevitable? So inescapably eternal? For that short moment…you had been the motor of the machinery of the universe; the lift of the sun, the brightening of the starts. But it was, from any angle, a __**brief **__exchange. And now we are back to silence, and it is empty._

_I long for Jacob… long for his awkward love and his easy company. I am too tired these days to attempt to make something built on fantasy and romance endure. This notion should terrify me… the idea that any stage of jadedness could convince me to want to close the book on you should turn me inside out. But I feel nothing, nothing but an odd draught of peace. I cannot live on romance. Ten draining years have taken out of me the energy to thrive on passion, and I will not call it love anymore. I will not try to survive on a warped memory in order to sustain my grief…I could have been __**happy!**__ I could have been so happy with Jacob. I could have had a family- I could have lived a life utterly free of the fear of abandonment. A life with somebody I could just talk to… or just sit with. I will not lasso him with my poison again now of course; whatever kind of whore I have become, I still possess enough wisp of class that I will not pursue him after this ultimate betrayal._

_I must have fallen asleep again; I am again back in the white room. You are beside me, sitting on a chair while I reach hopefully for the kind incoherence of sleep. I hear Jacob's voice as I lie there, trying in vain to conceal myself from the tongues of my daemons._

"_I love you Bella… I'm so sorry…"_

_It drifts hazily through me like a knife and an embrace at the same time. He would feel guilty… it would somehow be his fault. My decade of self-absorbed, angst ridden, overdue childhood that I had spread like an ink stain onto his spotless cloth through my brutish marriage topped by my physical betrayal would be his fault._

"_Bella please…" _

_I grit my teeth, willing him to stop. _

"_I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" I cry bleakly, praying that my battlefield mind will stop to rest._

_A sudden movement to my right causes me to yank my attention towards you._

"_Bella! Bella!" You're screaming at me, your face crumpled in apparent shock and confusion._

"_What? What is it?" I cry in alarmed response._

_Around me the air begins to thicken, growing denser and darker in places... and suddenly the dark shapes form people… lots of people, all wearing the same lime green uniform. I turn frantically for you, terrified by the senselessness of the situation… but you're not there. In the place where your chair was just moments ago, Jacob is stood, eyes wide with the same expression you wore. _

"_Jacob?" I whisper, disbelieving._

"_Bella? Bella you're awake?" He gushes, his hands scrambling vitally for my wrist._

"_Jacob… Jacob… I'm so sorry- I… I did a really terrible thing."_

"_Yes. Yes, you did How- how do you think I could ever have lived without you?" He chokes, swiping his face fiercely with a sleeve in a bid to stem the flow of tears evading his heavy, pained eyes. _

"_But your okay now, you're awake. Oh God Bella, please, please don't ever… If you need a divorce… if you need… anything! Please just take it… I can't have you not existing Bella… please… I can't say I forgive you for trying that… but I have to make sure you never…"_

"_No- you don't understand… I mean… I've done another terrible thing. Worse… and- but, Jacob- what do you mean I'm "awake" now? I don't understand- Edward, he… he stopped me before…"_

"_Oh God. It's always going to be him isn't it? Look Bella, I don't get it, he's about the last people on earth who would ever be good enough for you, but if he could keep you here… help you to… try and be happy… I can tell you where to find him." He says through gritted teeth, his face shielded by a supporting hand against his brow. I blink, in shock- and confusion. He's prepared to give me to you? Because he thinks it's the only way I can survive, and… why does he think I don't know where you are? Who other than you could have brought him here?_

"_Jacob… I don't understand… what's going on?" I croak, realising suddenly how dry my voice is._

"_You…you tried to- well, you know. Anyway, I decided against New York- instinct or whatever; Thank God I did… to think what would have happened if I'd been- even a moment later." His face is pressed into his two palms, elbows propped up on his lap. He shakes his head as he considers the alternative outcomes. _

"_You? But… I thought-" I mutter, utterly confused._

"_I grabbed you up, tried to get you to breathe… but you were already nearly gone. You went into a coma, Hon! I thought… I thought you weren't coming back." He groans heavily as he takes my hand in both of his and presses it to his forehead._

_It didn't happen. It was more than a dream… I know that for sure; but it wasn't real. I'm going to tell Jacob everything… I could never have done that with you could I? But I know I can with Jacob… I can tell him exactly what happened, where I went, what I did in that sleep… and he __**will **__still love me. And don't worry- he won't see your role as a sign… and he won't be jealous of you; Jacob never dramatises anything. He might be sad, sad that I wasted so much of our life on you…maybe sad that I still sometimes dream about you… but he knows that I understand what love is now. What it is for me. And he knows that my definition no longer corresponds with you. _

_**Dear Edward,**_

_**I'm glad to hear that business is good. It's good to know that you're building your life the way you always planned. It's been a while since we saw you last; you visit us rarely now. Bella still thinks of you, I know; she can't help it. You claimed such an immense part of her for the two years that you knew her… and she thinks about the affair too. You took her and you exposed her to a tongue of your vicious fire once more; she couldn't escape the effect of that. But- I know this attack is also what saved her. So thank you. I thought that she was dead for good... so I never tried to salvage her. You freed her in a way that no one else could, and you did it without leaving your life or even the knowledge that it was happening. My memory self can not claim such a feat.**_

_**Please do not come back. Please, please don't. But if you ever do return somehow, to visit me or to attempt to borrow my wife then know this; neither of us is in a position to entertain you anymore. I will not take my broom to your ash and my wife will not be pimped out. Our arrangement is no longer a temporary sustenance. Thank you for the burden you took from her; but it was of your giving and so was yours to take. I hope that your success proves enough, that whoever you have to share it with can appreciate you for it as much as Bella did before you threw her away. I hope you have indeed kept your sanity; I expect that madness might lesson the sting of loneliness… and I want you to realise what you've lost. **_

_**Bella and I are strong. Our foundations are built on solid rock; she decided against your sandy temptations as she saw the walls crumble into the storm. I'm about to turn the light of now, Bella is sleeping, and the freedom of her expression says that you are not there. Just as you chose to leave… she is rid of you. And I am rid of you too; now sleep is peaceful. I hope it is so for you.**_

_**Sincerely,**_

_**J. Cullen.**_

Review if you will

I'd actually quite like to be flamed if anyone has any major objections to it?


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